Code of Silence
by kissthegirl85
Summary: The first time, she saw Marcus he took her breath away, made her weak in the knees, evoking feelings she wasn’t used to. WeirLorne, implied WeirLorneNovak


The first time, she saw Marcus he took her breath away, made her weak in the knees, evoking feelings she wasn't used to. And when he first called her "ma'am" as he flashed his boyish grin, she couldn't help the shiver that traveled down her spine.

The first time he went off world, she couldn't help but worry, but, of course, Elizabeth told herself that it was only natural to worry about all those serving under her command. And that Marcus was no exception. 

But—who was she kidding?

There was no doubt about it. She was attracted to him. In spite of Elizabeth telling herself otherwise. Naturally, it begged the question of whether or not Lorne reciprocated those feelings.

Elizabeth had found herself wondering about his kissing technique on more than several occasions. 

They had to be soft, slow, and gentle. But, then again, he could surprise her. His kisses could be rough, fierce, full of passion—anything, but soft, gentle, and slow.

His hands were soft, that was the only sure thing.

If she ran her hands through his hair, would his hair be soft? Or like Sheppard's—unmovable.

Of course, his kisses weren't the only things Elizabeth, fantasized about.

Was he a top or bottom?

Was he a sub or a dom? Did it apply to sex or to the relationship as well?

Did he have any kinks?

He had to. The quiet ones were always the ones to watch out for.

What were his fantasies? Was he strictly a one-woman man or was he the type to enjoy threesomes?

The first time she had an exotic dream about Marcus, she told herself that it meant nothing. other then the fact that she was horny and couldn't recall the last time she had sex. It wouldn't have bothered her had the dream been a one off, but, unfortunately, her conscious mind had other plans. As a result, Elizabeth found herself in an awkward position whenever she spoke to Marcus in a briefing or debriefing. Every time she glanced in Marcus' direction, she couldn't help the provocative images that flashed through her mind. Nor could she help wondering whether or not her fantasy would become a reality. There were times when Lorne caught her gaze—like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Elizabeth immediately looked away.

When his team was captured, she did not hide her worry. Not that anyone noticed. It was natural for her to worry all those serving under her command after all. It was then she realized that perhaps she ought to have acted upon her attraction and disregarded the rules.

She certainly would not have been the first to do so.

When Marcus' team returned, she fought her urge to embrace him there and then. Instead she found herself pacing her quarters, and, before she knew it, she found herself outside Marcus' quarters. 

"Ma'am?"

Startled, Elizabeth jumped, before spinning around. Lorne smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, for startling you, ma'am."

Elizabeth cringed as an awkward laugh suddenly escaped her lips, prompting her to blush. Marcus raised both eyebrows, questioningly as he spoke, "Are you alright, ma'am?"

Elizabeth half smiled. "I'm fine."

He returned her smile. "A few of us are playing poker. You're welcome to join us."

For a moment, Elizabeth found herself at a loss. Was he asking her out? Or was he just being polite?

Marcus waiting patiently for her reply certainly didn't help matters. If anything it made matters worse.

So what was she waiting for? There was no time like the present.

She opened her mouth to reply, and yet—and embarrassingly—no sound came out.

True to form, and like a knight-in-shining-amour, Lorne came to her rescue. "Or if you'd prefer I could always give you private lessons," he grinned sheepishly. "Rumor has it, that you aren't quite the poker-player, you make out—"

Elizabeth folded her arms in defense, arching an eyebrow. "Really?"

Marcus raised his hands in self-defense.

"If that is the case, why are you inviting me to a poker game, if you know for a fact that I will lose?" Elizabeth challenged, as they began walking down the corridors.

"Because, ma'am, without meaning to offend you or the rest of the female population, Novak just needs another woman on her team, in order for us to win the wager. It wouldn't be fair if it was five to four."

Elizabeth broke out into a flirtatious smile. "No, it wouldn't and neither would helping the opposition."

He flashed his boyish grin and Elizabeth wondered whether or not the tingling feeling would ever die down. "Shall I take that as a no, ma'am?"

Elizabeth found herself breaking out in another flirtatious smile as she replied. "I have some mission reports that I ought to get back to. And major? You can call me Elizabeth, when you're off duty."

Both came to a standstill next to one of the recreational rooms. The door swished opened as he stepped inside. "You haven't answered my question, ma'am," he said somewhat teasingly, before adding. "Lindsey will be so disappointed that you're turning down my offer."

Elizabeth arched her eyebrow curiously. What did Novak have to do with this? Did she know? Instead of asking, Elizabeth found herself saying, "And we wouldn't want to disappoint the teams, right?"

Lorne's smile became inexplicable, as he replied, "No, ma'am."

He had to be flirting—right? The teasing and the playfulness could only mean one thing and one thing only.

"I think I will take you up on your offer, Marcus. After all, I would hate to disappoint Lindsey."

Surely, he knew she was flirting, right? But, then again, he was a man, and men-well, men could be oblivious.

He flashed a lopsided smile. "You made the right decision, Elizabeth."

She watched as the doors closed on Lorne, before breaking out into a smug smile, and making her way back toward her office.

Yes, private poker lessons with Marcus would certainly prove to be interesting.

But that was then.

And this? This was now.

She had to pinch herself in order to reassure herself that she wasn't dreaming that this was indeed a reality. Marcus' lips trailing across her neck toward her lips was a reality. The taste of his lips against hers wasn't her imagination. 

That he wasn't what she imagined—he was the exact opposite.

His kisses varied, from rough and passionate to soft and gentle. He was kinky, but that shouldn't have surprised her. His dominant side surprised her. She was equally—if not more—surprised by his suggestion of one day involving Novak.

That would explain why Novak was always so nervous around her. Of course, Elizabeth could always help Lindsey to relax by dropping teasing hints.


End file.
